


our time together was sunshine after the rain.

by wenmemehui



Series: (we could take, we could take,) we could take our time, baby, in slow motion. [got7, bts, unconnected one-shot series] [1]
Category: GOT7, K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: AO3 HIS NAME IS JINYOUNG, Angst, Daegu Boys, Falling In Love, Fluff, Gen, LITERALLY, M/M, Merman!Taehyung, Pain, Slow Burn, and its no longer just bts either whoops, before everyone decides i need to catch these hands jinyoung is junior because GANG POLITICS, but not really, chocolate (like a lot of it), he's a smooth criminal, human/conman!mark, jinyoung is the asshole that watches everyone's lives go to hell and offers sarcastic commetary, kind of the Legend of The Blue Sea au, mark wears oversized sweaters and shoots guns, past taegi, platonicbtsships is no longer just platonic whoops, smh, taebum are bros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 05:29:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10780530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wenmemehui/pseuds/wenmemehui
Summary: “Was the chocolate any good?”“No.”Mark smiles. “Try this one.”Taehyung’s traitor heart flutters.....or, alternatively: taehyung the merman falls in love with mark the human, and maybe things aren't as complicated as they should be.





	our time together was sunshine after the rain.

The stars are prettier when he isn’t watching them through the sea.

He says prettier because they’ve always been pretty. Taehyung’s never minded that the water film separating him from the sky makes the stars look bleary and out of focus, never minded that sometimes they move and ripple and distort, and he’s just thankful that he gets to see them. They look better now, though, bright and blazing and glittering like the tears of the mermen, and they don’t distort or ripple.

He’s fascinated.

Land Walkers have it easy. They can see the stars whenever they want, and they can see the vision and appreciate it anytime they want to. He breathes in, breathes out, breathes in again, and he watches the diamonds in the sky and thinks he mustn’t get used to it.

The stars look down on him. He smiles at them, wiggles his toes, and starts walking on the warm sand, right at the place where the waves touch the land. He thinks if he runs enough, he’ll find the place where the sun meets the sea, and then he’ll run further.

He’ll run until he finds his place in this cold, cold world.

…..

 “Go back home.” Jaebum tells him on the fifth day.

He doesn’t know how he found him, but here he is. His feet remain listless and buried in the sand while Jaebum sits next to him, contemplative and disheartened. He hasn’t seen him in a while, and he’s changed a bit. His hair is no longer the stark white it used to be, and instead it’s a coppery red. He’s matured a bit, taller and broader and stronger than Taehyung remembers him to be, but he sounds the same, voice rough with years of fondness and affection he was forced to leave behind.

“I can’t.” Taehyung replies, smiling a little. “There’s nothing back there for me.”

Jeongguk’s dead. Jimin’s dead. Namjoon can’t look at him without wanting to bawl. Hoseok’s mute. Seokjin’s dead. Taehyung’s dead to Yoongi. The corals are fading. Home isn’t home. Jaebum studies him, sighs through his nose like he always used to do when eleven year old Taehyung wandered into shipwrecks and refused to come back because he wanted adventure, like he always used to when thirteen year old Taehyung called him _hyung_ and begged him until he relented to let him play with Jimin a little longer, like he did when fifteen year old Taehyung found out that he wasn’t Jaebum’s real brother, like he did the day they tossed him to the land and told him to never come back, like he was years and years older than he actually is.

“I gave up everything I had down there for you.” Jaebum says, but he doesn’t sound angry. He sounds impassive, but Taehyung’s known him long enough to see the turbulent, flickering emotions in his eyes. “I gave up my whole life just so that you wouldn’t have to suffer the same fate as me. I gave up my friends, I gave up my tail and my pride just so that you wouldn’t have been seen as a traitor’s brother. I gave _you_ up just so that you’d never have to break the surface of the water and step on land. You know this, so why are you here?”

 _I don’t want to live._ “I don’t know.”

“Taehyung.” And it’s the exact same tone he’d used years and years ago, whenever Taehyung came home with bruises he couldn’t explain after kids started getting cruel about him living with the Emperor’s bastard, or whenever Taehyung didn’t want to talk to him about something that bothered him. “I know what happened to your friends, and it’s not your fault. You didn’t ask for any of that, so stop it, okay? Go back home. Reconnect with Namjoon and Hoseok and Yoongi-hyung. It’ll be fine.”

Going back into the sea wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t bring back Jeongguk from the trenches of the ocean, wouldn’t bring Jimin back from beneath the sand, wouldn’t bring back Hoseok’s laughter, wouldn’t bring back Namjoon’s smile, and it wouldn’t bring back Seokjin or Yoongi. It wouldn’t bring his friends back. It wouldn’t bring _him_ back from where he’d lost himself.

“Hyung, you don’t have to worry about me.” He says, instead, and he hates, hates, hates that Jaebum sees right through him. “I’ll survive, you can go back.” _To the life you’ve built without me._

There’s a long, contemplative silence. Then Jaebum gets up, brushes the sand off his clothes, and holds out a hand to Taehyung. He looks up, and his brother is smiling, turbulent and still the same, and he says, “Come on. Enough of this. Let’s go somewhere else.”

 _I hate being near the sea,_ he doesn’t say, but Taehyung hears it anyway, _it reminds me of all the things I’ll never have._

And for the first time, he agrees.

…….

His brother lives in the thick of the pollution and all the moral crimes, in a large, building stocked area called Seoul. Taehyung hates it the minute Jaebum tells him to breathe in through his mouth instead of his nose.

The house is nice, at least. He’s heard of things about the Land Walkers, how they live in the middle of “technological advancements” or whatever, so he tries not to be surprised at how perfect everything is. Jaebum trudges in, drops his shiny keys into a bowl, and motions for Taehyung to follow him.

Taehyung hasn’t felt so out of place in a long, long time. And yet, he deals with it because this is his last hope of belonging.

He doesn’t live alone. There’s a photo on the mantelpiece, and it’s his brother, (a long time ago, a lot tormented but a little lighter, sandy blonde hair and eyes cold, but it’s his brother nonetheless) smiling with one of his hands slung over someone’s shoulders. The boy is small, barely fitting into Jaebum’s side. He’s smiling too, brown hair a shade lighter than his eyes, angled face, small eyes and pretty, pretty lips. One of his hands remains lost in the third boy’s onyx hair. He’s pretty too, whiskered smile and dimples and nice, angular jaw. The inscription on the bottom, written in foreign, choppy Hangul: _Mark, Junior, DEF. – Los Angeles, CA. (22.09.15.)_

Jaebum’s agonizing. He’s got no plan, Taehyung realizes, and he’s confused about being put in such a compromising position.

At least one thing’s going right today, because Jaebum barely has time to enter the living room, Taehyung in tow, when one of the boys in the photo (the whiskered smile, Taehyung sees) walks out of another door and stares at them for what feels like an eternity.

Taehyung wants to run when the boy looks at him critically. Then, he sighs at looks at Jaebum instead, and he says, “You’re the one who’s going to explain this clusterfuck to Mark, not me,” and leaves just as fast as he entered. Jaebum exhales shakily and slumps like he hadn’t expected anything else.

“Hyung.” Taehyung starts, mind made up. “I can go, you know. Not back to the ocean, but I can leave. You don’t have to fight your friends.”

“They’ll deal with it.” Taehyung wonders where his sudden indifference is coming from. He looked like someone had slapped him across the face a second ago. He gestures towards a door. “Come on. We can talk here.”

They don’t talk, not much anyway. Instead, Jaebum says, “It’ll be fine. I promise it’ll be,” and Taehyung is oddly reminded of all those years ago, when he was fifteen and Jaebum had looked at him straight in the eye and said _I’m not your blood brother, I’m not your family, I’m not your anything_ , and Taehyung had said, _you’re you and that’s enough for me._

It feels like it was centuries apart. Taehyung closes his eyes, and reminds himself to breathe.

…….

(Jeongguk would have told him to tell Jaebum he missed him.

Jeongguk is also dead.)

……

The day Taehyung finally meets Mark, he’s trying to wash the blood off his hands.

Not that there’s anything there anymore. Most of Jeongguk’s blood faded into the ocean when he broke the surface and walked, but he sees. He sees it, the pigments clustering under his nails and on the micro callouses on his palm, and he remembers that Jeongguk had begged him to swim, begged him to turn away and never come back, remembers the haunted worry in the young boy’s eyes and wishes he could forget.

“Hey, catch.” He hears, and he barely catches the bright thing in his hands when he meets the boy’s eyes. “Chocolate helps the guilty conscience die for good.”

Taehyung studies him for a moment, hands clasped around the rectangular object. The boy is shorter than him, but he stands with a surprising sort of grace, a boyish charm in his smile. His hair is the color of the sand and his eyes a bright, rich brown. He doesn’t look like the type to initiate the conversation (looks more like the type of person who’d stare at you until you left when you tried to talk to them, actually,) but he smiles like he’s expecting something from Taehyung. His brain fried, he finally says, “Uh, what?”

“You looked like you were agonizing over something.” He says, smoothly sliding into the space next to Taehyung. He blinks, inhaling the scent of detergent and a strong, musky smell, and kind of hates that his senses are so heightened. “It helped Jaebum. The chocolate, I mean. It could help you too.”

It’s the thing in his hands, he realizes. The chocolate. Taehyung only has pretty fundamental knowledge about how humans live – from that one time on Hoseok’s birthday when he’d convinced everyone to go on land and spend two days there, and Namjoon had learnt and taught them many things. It makes his chest ache just thinking about it.

“Hey.” The boy says. “My name is Mark. Let me know how the chocolate is.”

And then he’s gone, leaving behind him a trail of musk. Taehyung tries not to think about him too much.

 _He’s just a human_ , he thinks, and bites into the chocolate, _stupid, stupid fucking human_. It tastes sweet, melted sugar and milk, and Taehyung is surprised to find his mouth quirking into a smile.

…….

“I let them die, you know.”

It’s midnight. Jaebum’s hand is brushing past his. Nothing feels the same. “There was nothing you could have done,” Jaebum says, and Taehyung knows he’s trying to conjure up all the images he must have seen that night, of Taehyung swimming in a cluster of red bubbles, blood on his hands and his tail, Hoseok screaming, Yoongi holding onto Namjoon, Seokjin sinking into the trenches, Jimin’s wide eyes begging Taehyung to help him, Jeongguk’s listless wails, and for a moment Taehyung’s back there, six thousand feet under the blue sea with the witch’s shadow trailing his tail, “they were meant to die and you know it.”

“I could have tried.” He says, words a mere exhale.

He sighs. “You don’t want to hear this from me, but you would have died with them if you had,” and Taehyung knows it’s true.

…......

(“Hyung,” Jeongguk said, “promise you’ll survive?”

“Yes.” Taehyung lied. “I will survive.”)

……...

Mark, as it happens, is very insistent when he wants to be.

He talks to Taehyung a lot, and it’s not the kind of talking Junior does with him, distant and unlatched and disoriented. It’s nice and heartwarming, the effort he makes just to talk to Taehyung. It doesn’t matter that Taehyung says almost nothing – Mark tells him about all his crazy experiences, from the time he almost shot Jaebum to the time he ran halfway across Korea with a prized artifact. He doesn’t look like he enjoys talking very much, but it’s like he can’t stop.

“Chocolate is great.” Mark tells him. There’s a gun on the center of the table and Taehyung can’t bring himself to eye at it suspiciously because Mark’s sweater keeps sinking lower on his shoulders, and it’s an unwelcome sight. Pretty, and a little tempting, but unwelcome nonetheless. “It’s sweet and brings positive vibes all around. Did you like the one I gave you a couple of days ago?”

“No,” it’s the first thing he’s said to Mark since he took interest in Taehyung, and as expected from a sinner’s tongue, it’s a lie.

Mark turns his head sideways like he’s trying to see right through him. “Ah.” He says. “I should give you another one.”

Taehyung stares. “I just said – “

“I know what you said.” Mark says, shuffling through the drawer and handing him one. It’s white this time, and it feels less cold, somehow. “This is Junior’s favorite. He says it’s Italian, but I can’t be sure.”

 _Italy is somewhere on the Atlas._ Taehyung only remembers because Namjoon always wanted to swim there.

“It’s good.” Mark says, and Taehyung’s hands clench around the chocolate when he smiles. His heart does the thing it used to do around Yoongi all the time, the thing where it feels like it’s about to beat its way out of his ribs. “Promise.”

He’s out the door by the time Taehyung breathes again, and the scent of musk is still prominent. Taehyung scoffs, and thinks, _stupid, stupid fucking human_ , but he bites into the chocolate anyway.

…….

In the dream, Taehyung’s back in the sea.

Jimin’s swimming beside him, pink hair matching is silver tail, and he’s talking about something. Taehyung can’t hear what he’s saying, but it sounds interesting because Jimin keeps rolling his eyes and laughing mid-sentences. Maybe it’s about another one of Jeongguk’s stupid pranks, or maybe it’s about the boy who confessed to Jimin a couple of days before, or maybe he’s just repeating Hoseok’s gossip. Whatever it is, it looks real and feels real. Taehyung wants to wake up.

The worst part about these dreams is that no one dies in them, so bit by bit, piece by piece, Taehyung sees the happy times before the sad once.

He wishes he could erase them.

…….

“Was the chocolate any good?”

“No.”

Mark smiles. “Try this one.”

Taehyung’s traitor heart flutters.

……

Junior’s the one that suggests they take Taehyung with them when they go on a burglary.

Taehyung doesn’t know what a burglary is, so Junior makes a quick work of explaining it to him while Jaebum stares, slack-jawed at the suggestion. It’s basically stealing. There’s lots of running and armed weapons and these small things called radios involved. Taehyung doesn’t really get it until Junior, shining eyes and all, says, “It’s an adventure.”

Honestly, Taehyung feels sick from being indoors so long. He’ll take this burglary thing over being alone when everyone’s out of sight.

“He’s not going anywhere.” Jaebum starts, jaw in his _I’m about to kick you halfway across the room_ position. One of his hands goes up to shove Junior’s shoulder. “It’s fucking dangerous. We’re literally going into Zitao’s empire, and you want me to take my brother there?”

“Well, merman or not, he’s got to get used to this.” Junior says, nonchalant. Taehyung blanches at the mention of the word _merman._ He says it too casually. “This is how we live, hyung. We lie and we steal and pretend like we’re good people. If he’s not going back, he might as well as give us a hand.”

“I’ll go.” Taehyung says, when he sees that Jaebum’s seconds away from starting a fist fight. He doesn’t like having his authority questioned – he used to hate it when Taehyung refused to do chores or refused to leave Jimin’s side even when they had to go home or when he told him _I swear I’ll sleep in fifteen minutes, but there’s a meteor shower and I want to see, hyung_ – and for some Junior seems to push his goddamn buttons left and right.

Jaebum laughs, humorless. “No, you’re just saying it because Junior makes it sound easy.”

“I’ve been inside too long.” He blurts out, and the words hang in the air, ominous and cold between the three of them. (Mark’s not here – he’s at site, from the little exchange Taehyung overheard between Jaebum and him.) “It’s fucking annoying and too quiet and I don’t want to stay here if I’m alone.”

“You go to the city all the time.” Jaebum retaliates, and it’s true, because Taehyung does take long extended walks on the streets and just walks and walks and walks and finds his way back. Sometimes he goes alone, and sometimes Jaebum goes with him and sometimes Junior follows him. “Burglary isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, Taehyung-ah.”

“It wasn’t yours either.” Junior seems hell bent on taking Taehyung with them, or maybe he’s just trying to piss Jaebum off at this point. “I don’t know jackshit about where Taehyung comes from. I haven’t seen anything he’s been through, but sitting alone and being cooped up in one room isn’t doing him any good. Hyung, you’d know better than anyone that healing is an experience you get from getting out of your head, and the most he’s ever had the chance to get out is talking to you or Mark, or me when I tell him to take his feet off the table. How much longer is he going to sit around and do nothing? Let’s just take him.”

Jaebum looks at Taehyung, and maybe his eyes showed more expectation and hope than he originally wants it to, because finally, he sighs and nods wearily. “Fine,” he says, and one of his hands goes up to ruffle Taehyung’s hair messily, “but you’ll be careful, Taehyung-ah.”

 _Promise you’ll be safe,_ he hears in his head, and he looks up to see Jaebum eyeing him carefully, like he’s testing it out. Taehyung smiles a little. He hadn’t realized their telepathic connection still works.

 _I promise,_ he replies, _I’m fine._

He’s not, he’s really not, but here, under the dim lights of the kitchen, Jaebum’s hand in his hair and Junior looking at both of them, he feels oddly at home.

……..

Mark’s leaning on the hood of a car when Jaebum parks next to him. He’s eating chocolate again, a milky brown one, and when he sees Taehyung, his face visibly brightens. “Ah, hi. Didn’t think your brother would let you out of the house any time soon.”

Taehyung doesn’t reply. He frankly wishes Mark would stop talking to him like they’ve known each other for years, because it’s strange and intimate and the sparkle in Mark’s eyes makes it really hard for him to ignore him. He would wonder why Mark’s so interested in him, but the answer is apparent enough. It’s because he’s a merman. There’s no other explanation for it.

The night is stagnant and cold. Vaguely, Taehyung notices that they’re back to where he’d walked when he first stepped foot on land. Mark hands him a knife and says, “Swing at anyone who touches you anywhere,” and squares his shoulders, motioning for the rest of them to follow.

Taehyung inhales the salty air and exhales bright hopes.

…….

It’s going well.

Then people start crowding and Mark grabs his wrist, and says, “Run like hell when I tell you to.”

…….

They’re running the expanse of the horizon, feet digging into the sand while the foamy waves kiss their ankles and Mark’s nails paint pretty crescents on Taehyung’s wrist. All the noise in the background, the sound of footsteps and muffled curses and half-assed warnings melt into his ears as the sound of the ocean, thick and murky and beautiful, overtakes his senses.

“Come on!” Mark shouts, voice over the crashing waves and the ocean swallowing itself. “Run faster! You’ll get us caught!”

 _You won’t get caught,_ he hears. It’s Jaebum, breathless and worried in his head. _I wiped their memories clean. They won’t remember even seeing you. In a while, they’ll go back to the way they were and you’ll be fine._

It’s dangerous, the way Mark holds onto his wrist. It’s even more dangerous that Taehyung likes the way his slender fingers wrap itself around his strong wrist, likes the way Mark’s grip is strong and sure and warm, likes the way Mark turns around to smile at him occasionally, tugging him along. It’s even more dangerous that Taehyung lets himself be tugged along by the wrist. It’s even worse that he finds himself smiling back.

His mind tells him to stop running and wrench his hands out of Mark’s grip, tells him to tell Mark to stay the fuck away. But when the footsteps fade into staccatos and it’s back to silence, he closes his eyes, and he runs faster until he and Mark and running, breathing in sync towards nothing, and his heart soars.

 _Stupid, stupid fucking human,_ he thinks, staring at the way the stars flicker to life in Mark’s eyes. _Stupid, stupid fucking human,_ he thinks again, smiling back when Mark smiles at him.

 _Stupid, stupid fucking human,_ he thinks, and laughs when Mark says, “Run faster!”

……

“Here.” Mark says, the next morning. He’s holding the chocolate out to Taehyung, smiling his courteous, pretty smile. “I think you’ll like this one.”

He does.

“I hate it.” Taehyung tells him. Mark smiles.

……

For all his indifference and smart mouth, Junior is really perceptive. He seems to have an idea, however vague it may be, about everything that’s happened to everyone. It’s in the way he looks at them sometimes – Taehyung’s seen him stare at Mark like he’s trying to take him apart and expose him to the world, has seen him stare at Jaebum with a sort of innate curiosity that would make anyone shift, has seen him look at Taehyung when he thinks Taehyung’s not paying attention. He’s constantly analyzing everything, which, Jaebum always says, is what makes him such a good accomplice. Taehyung’s not really sure. He sometimes feels like Junior knows too much.

So when the entire house becomes aware of the rising tension between Taehyung and Mark, Junior’s the first one to bring it up, even beating Jaebum.

“He’s not as simple to read as you think he is.” Junior comments, and he and Taehyung are standing side-by-side at the bus stop, shoulders barely brushing. “Mark-hyung, I mean. He might just seem like he’s flirting around with you or whatever, but he’s not the kind of asshole who plays with others because he’s bored. I’m not saying you should go ahead and fall in love with him – love seems to be a touchy subject with all you merfolk – but, like, give him a chance, I guess.”

Taehyung blinks. “What?”

“Yeah, Mark-hyung, attempting to give you chocolate with his nerd mating ritual and you rejecting him every time. Didn’t you know he was flirting?” Junior lights up one of those things that Jaebum’s not really fond of, the things that pulse smoke and leave the smell. He doesn’t even ask for permission. Taehyung’s brain is too busy whirring itself to care. “He’s really into you, I think. I haven’t seen him this desperate for someone, ever.”

“What does that mean?” He figures hearing it from Junior’s better than hearing it from Jaebum, who’s probably sitting at home with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, looking like one of those dads in American series dramas Mark keeps leaving on the TV instead of changing it.

Junior laughs. “It means he wants you, Taehyung-ah.”

Taehyung doesn’t talk to him for the remainder of the bus drive home. He bites his tongue from asking, _really?,_ and instead he keeps his hands clenched tightly in his pocket. He can’t even forget about it because the Hershey’s kiss Mark gave him that morning keeps grazing past his knuckles.

 _Stupid fucking human,_ he thinks, remembers that Mark’s eyes are brighter than the entire skyline of Seoul melding together, _what have you done to me?_

…….

It’s only the next time Mark talks to him that Taehyung realizes that maybe he really is stupid.

It’s there. The signs, that is. Mark doesn’t look at Taehyung the way you’d look at a little brother of a friend. He looks at him with a kind of fascinated curiosity, like he wants to get to know him when he’s the happiest and when he’s the saddest, like he wants to drag a fingertip across the curve of his face and take his expressions apart until he understands. It makes him feel insanely guilty on the inside when he realizes it, but also makes his heartrate increase.

“Told you.” Junior says. The sound of Taehyung’s forehead colliding with the nearest wall is loud enough to make Nora the cat startle from her nap and fall out of the window.

.........

 ** _So_** _,_ Jaebum starts **, _Mark-hyung, huh?_**

 _Be quiet._ Taehyung tells him. He would have yelled if the Hershey’s kisses in his mouth don’t melt like heaven.

(He still tells Mark he doesn’t like chocolate. Mark smiles angelically, and hands him another one before walking out the door. Taehyung wishes he’d say something instead of giving him chocolate all the time.)

…….

 _You’re dead to me,_ Yoongi said, _you’re dead to me and I fucking hate you, Kim Taehyung._

It was a blessing they lived under the ocean. Taehyung’s tears melt into the ocean and the glassy pearls slid onto the seabed, and no one saw him cry. If they did, they didn’t care.

 _Sinners will forever repent_ , he thought, and then he turned and swam to the surface. He didn’t look back even once.

……..

“Why do you do this?” Taehyung asks.

It’s a fairly quiet night. Junior’s out on the balcony, hunched over a notebook with a glass of expensive alcohol he hasn’t let Taehyung anywhere near while Jaebum sleeps his overnight mission off, presumably with a book and the AC turned up the highest. Mark and Taehyung are sitting on the couch with an overplayed indie film Mark wanted to watch and Taehyung bore with because he didn’t want to go to bed right after dinner. It’s not supposed to feel so awkward, but it is.

Mark tears a chunk of his white chocolate out. “Do what?”

“This.” Taehyung’s pretty sure this is just all the frustration and anger and homesickness bleeding into his attitude, or else he wouldn’t have brought this up at all. He was hoping to take it to the grave. “You know, this whole chocolate business. You give me chocolate and I take the chocolate and you smile like I’m complimenting you when I insult your taste. Why?”

“It’s actually pretty simple.” Mark says, and that’s when Taehyung realizes that he might just actually be very much serious about whatever he has in his heart for him. “You intrigue me in a way no one else ever has, Taehyung. Humans call it a crush.”

Taehyung doesn’t like looking into other’s minds. He doesn’t like peeking into other people’s thoughts because they’re too loud and too amplified. He thinks it’s a violation of someone’s basic rights – he hated it when Jaebum snuck into his brain, hated it when Jeongguk or Jimin popped into his mindscape, hated it when Namjoon read him like he was an open book, hated it when Yoongi and Seokjin teased him endlessly about everything he thought – but Mark makes the mistake (or blessing) of looking at him in the eye and he just thinks, _god forgive me,_ and reads the boy inside out.

 _I wish you could see yourself the way I see you._ Mark’s thoughts are blunt. _I wish you could save yourself before you finally decide this life isn’t worth living. I want to show you why the world is still a beautiful place. Will you let me do it?_

“We’re worlds apart.” Taehyung says, looking away.

“That we are.” And Mark smiles prettily instead of asking him for a chance.

…….

(When Taehyung fell in love with Yoongi, if he ever fell in love with Yoongi at all, he had loved him desperately, like their time together was rain after drought. He hadn’t known what he was doing, but he kissed Yoongi like he meant it, bruised his neck with marks he hoped would never disappear, held onto him like he wanted to drag him down when he fell, and it had been fine. He’d loved harshly, coldly, beautifully, and he’d loved in a way that maybe wasn’t the best, but he’d loved. God, had he loved.

“I love you,” Taehyung always said. Yoongi always smiled and never said it back.)

…….

Jaebum stays as far away from the sea as possible and only dips his feet in when Junior starts complaining ( _what a fucking spoilsport, if you’re going to come to the beach at least have some fun, Christ, hyung, you suck_ ,). Taehyung sits next to the two of them while they bicker and argue, and he watches Mark dance in the sea instead of waiting for all the sexual tension to diffuse out.

He hadn’t looked to see if anyone followed him – Mark just laid down his blanket and took off his shirt and ran headfirst into the sea, disappearing for a few seconds and surfacing again looking years and years younger than he actually is. He looks happy splashing around all alone. Taehyung can see his bright smile all the way from where he is when Mark shakes the water out of his hair and throws his head back. He’s ethereal under the shining sun and the deep blue of the sea makes his tanned skin positively glow.

He’s fascinated.

Mark meets his eyes. For a moment, he looks at Taehyung with an unreadable, neutral face. Then he smiles and holds out his hand, an open invitation to come or to stay, and Taehyung’s surprised at how tempted he is to cradle Mark’s slender fingers in his own even though he’s worlds apart.

So he goes.

He leaves Jaebum and Jinyoung bickering when he gets up, brushing the sand off his clothes as his feet sink into the warm sand. He walks towards Mark with a kind of hesitance. He’s not sure what he’s trying to do, but he wants to go wherever Mark wants to take him, wants to follow him wherever they go, and he decides, fuck logic, and he walks and walks and walks until he’s waist-deep in the water and standing in front of Mark.

The familiarity of the salt and the sea breeze doesn’t do anything to calm his hectic heart when they lock hands for the first time.

“Hi,” Taehyung breathes.

“Hey,” Mark says, and it feels a lot like flying when he squeezes their intertwined fingers together.

Falling in ‘like’ with Mark is easy. Taehyung just has to get used to seeing him a lot, and the next thing he knows, he’s falling and falling and falling and there really isn’t any going back from it.

Mark smiles with his teeth. He’s quiet yet knows exactly what to say. He sometimes wears suits sharp enough to slice someone’s neck open and sometimes wears oversized sweaters that slip over his shoulders to expose his pretty collars. His shoulders are narrow but strong at the same time, and he seems so fragile but he’s so, so strong.

But what really seals the deal is when Mark hooks their fingers together when they’re walking back to the shore, both of them drenched and shivering, and Taehyung meets his eyes and forgets to smile because he’s too busy painting the image of Mark’s smile behind his eyelids.

……

Junior’s the one that suggests they start a bonfire and roast the fluffy, white clouds Jaebum calls marshmallows, and Mark’s more than happy about it, and Jaebum doesn’t exactly say no even though he eyes Junior warily, so Taehyung doesn’t complain. Besides, it looks fun.

The flame’s up in a record time of ten minutes, and they seat themselves comfortably around it, Taehyung next to Mark while Junior and Jaebum sit somewhere splayed to the right. They roast the marshmallows mostly in silence, without words as Junior hums along to an unfamiliar tune and Jaebum joins in. Mark finally breaks the quiet by saying, “I’d join in, but I don’t have a single musical bone in my body,” and then everyone’s snorting into laughter even though it’s really not entertaining.

“I kind of missed this.” Junior says, finally. “Remember Cali?”

Taehyung doesn’t remember anything. It’s kind of difficult for him to think that he only met these people only a short time ago, because he’s felt like he’s been here forever. Jaebum hums. “Yeah, Cali was fun. Maybe we can take Taehyung with us this year, right, hyung?”

Mark nods through a mouthful of marshmallow. “It’s fun.” He says to Taehyung. “Cali, I mean. I lived there before. There’s the beach and the pier and the god-awful greased popcorn and the smell of sea and hotdogs and a lot of fuckboys, but I wouldn’t go anywhere else if I could.”

He only understands the phrase _fuckboys_ from that sentence, so he just settles for shrugging instead. Junior laughs. “Hey, is your guitar there, hyung? We could bring it out and sing a little.”

They sing the whole night. Even Mark graces them with a lot of ballads even though he’s tone deaf and practically the worst singer in existence. Junior sings upbeat, happier songs while Jaebum settles for more soulful sounds. Taehyung actually gets so into it that he accidentally sings a Siren’s Song and Junior and Mark get hypnotized, until Jaebum kisses both of them (Mark on the cheek and Junior on the nose) and then they’re making disgusted noises and acting like a bunch of bratty boys.

“Whoops.” Taehyung says, when he and Jaebum are done laughing. “Sorry. Siren Songs are all I know.”

“There’s plenty of time to learn.” Mark says, ruffling his hair and leaving a trail of sand between the strands. “You’ll be fine, kid.”

Taehyung looks down, half shy and half pleased, and he raises his eyes again and sees the sea. He stops smiling when he catches a flash of alabaster and mint in a distance, and when he blinks, there’s nothing there, just blue and murky black everywhere.

 _Yoongi-hyung,_ he thinks, and he’s surprised to find his heart sinking at the thought of seeing him again.

………

“You saw him too?”

Jaebum’s voice is quiet enough to be unheard if not for his keen hearing. Taehyung nods, eyes still glued to the spot where he’d seen the slight silhouette of Yoongi, so far away and yet so close to him. He wonders if he saw Taehyung smile when Mark’s hand went through his hair, wonders selfishly if he cared, if he ever cared.

It’s quiet now. Mark’s splayed on the blankets, his head on Taehyung’s lap and their hands entangled together. He looks more youthful like this, face relaxed and eyes closed, and Taehyung drinks in the sight of him, pretty and lovely. Junior’s out cold next to him, and he and Mark lie side by side, shoulders barely brushing while Jaebum carefully brushes the sand out of his hair and his face with an odd kind of gentleness. They’re both wide awake, Jaebum and him, like they’re expecting to see Yoongi on the rocks, mint hair a cold contrast against the dark night as his skin glows a pearly white. He doesn’t show up.

Finally, Jaebum turns to him, cocking his head to the side curiously, and he asks, “Would you go back with him?”

“I don’t know.” _He hurt me pretty badly. They all did._

“Just to be clear, no one wants you gone.” Jaebum’s looking at the sea again, like he’s looking for something that’s not there. “We don’t mind if you stay here with us. None of us do. You can stay however long you want, you can help us with our work and things like that, but if you want to go, no one will stop you, alright?”

There’s a long, long pause.

“I resented you for a long time.” Taehyung finally says. “When you left, that is. I hated that you didn’t fight for me when the Emperor exiled you. You didn’t even talk about me when you swam to the shore. I thought, for the longest time, you didn’t want anything to do with me. I was a bitter little thing when I met Yoongi-hyung.”

“And you trusted him.” Jaebum says, like he’s lived the emotions, and maybe he has because he’s kept track of Taehyung for all this time even though he wasn’t there for it.

“I did.” Taehyung laughs. “And maybe that’s why I’m the way I am now.”

“I think you’re fine.” The stars are even brighter now. Jaebum closes his eyes like he can’t stand it anymore. “I haven’t seen you as happy as you were today in a long, long time, and that makes me very happy. You and Mark-hyung – I don’t care what you have with each other, but I haven’t seen you smile the way you smile at him for so long. You’re not okay yet. I know you still tear yourself up about their deaths because you feel responsible for it even though you couldn’t have stopped it – they would have been killed anyway because they knew too much, but you do it a lot less now. I’m happy you’re doing better, Taehyung-ah.”

_I’m happy you’re happy, little brother._

“I’m happy I’m doing better too, hyung.” He says, and his fingers curl even tighter against Mark’s when his brother smiles at him like he always has. He feels lighter, somehow.

 _Healing,_ he realizes, _I’m healing._

He smiles.

……..

The next day, before Junior or Mark or Jaebum wake up, when he looks, Yoongi’s there.

He’s sitting at the edge of one of the rocks he must have conjured up himself, his hair a shining mint as his glorious silver tail leaves a trail of foam when he hoists it up to get comfortable. Taehyung swims to that distance without losing his feet, swims and swims until the shoreline turns into a silhouette in the distance and his feet touch the rocks. He raises himself up and sits next to Yoongi, and for a moment, the only sound in the air is the sound of the waves crashing against the rock.

Then, Yoongi says, “You looked happy running with him,” and Taehyung doesn’t even ask what he’s talking about because he already knows.

He’s talking about Mark, and the time Taehyung and he had been running after the burglary, hand in hand with the roar of the ocean in their ears. Taehyung doesn’t remember seeing Yoongi there at all, but Yoongi has his way of knowing things, of reading him like he’s an open book. Taehyung laughs. “I guess I did.”

“Who’s he?”

“A stupid human.” He says, smiling slightly. “His name is Mark. He’s Jaebum-hyung’s friend.”

Yoongi laughs. “I always knew you’d find someone who’d treat you better than I did.”

“I didn’t blame you for it.” Taehyung assures him. Yoongi’s had his fair share of shit that’s made him the way he is. His dead girlfriend and the Curse of the Unloved seem to hover around him where ever he goes. “I don’t blame anyone for it, actually. It was just – something, I guess. Let’s not dwell on it too much.”

“Yeah.” Yoongi sighs. “I’m sorry. For everything.”

Taehyung should tell him to fuck off. He should tell him that the last thing he deserves his forgiveness. He should fight and argue and tell him that nothing could compare to all the pain he’s felt because of him.

But then Yoongi looks at him, and his eyes are glassy and broken like Taehyung’s absence has been _killing_ him on the inside, like the pain is real and raw and destructive, like everything he’s done is coming back to haunt him, like he wishes he could eat his words back and never spit them out, like he wishes everything were back to the way it was, and Taehyung sees a reflection of the Yoongi he met all those years ago, the Yoongi he thought he’d loved, and he smiles and says, “I’m sorry too, hyung. I really am.”

“It’s not – You didn’t do anything.” Yoongi’s eyes remain glued to the rising sun. “It was all me. You didn’t kill them. You didn’t want them to die. They worked for the Emperor and they knew too much and I just hated that you were helpless to save their lives and I believed what the soldiers told me instead of believing you when you said you didn’t have anything to do with it. They _framed_ you, Taehyung-ah, but I should have known better than to be so cruel to you – “

“You were blinded by grief.” Taehyung cuts him off. “It’s fine, alright, hyung? We’re alright. Hoseok-hyung, Namjoon-hyung, you and me – we’re fine, yeah? Jeongguk and Jimin and Seokjin-hyung wouldn’t want us to think of them like this. Let’s remember them the way they were.”

There’s silence. The sun’s barely made it’s way up to the sky.

“Fine.” Yoongi breaks out into a smile. “Bring your human when you’re visiting. I’ll be sure to tell Namjoon and Hoseok you’re doing fine.”

Taehyung blinks. “How do you know I don’t want to go back with you?”

Yoongi stares at him, enigmatic smile and all, and he says, “Go back, Taehyung. That’s your home now.”

He’s gone before Taehyung can say, _thanks for understanding_.

……..

Mark’s up when Taehyung gets back to the shore. He’s shaking the sand out of his hair and wiping sand out of his face and looking absolutely riveting for someone who just woke up. Taehyung grins at him when their eyes lock, and Mark grins right back, shy and boyish, and for a moment, it’s just them and the rising sun and the bright blue sky and the large ocean in the world.

“Hi.” He says, voice sharp and rough from sleep. “Do I have sand on my face?”

He does. The grains sink into the tanned skin of his cheek and the sides of his arms, but he looks adorable nonetheless. Taehyung uses the pads of his thumb to wipe away some of the sand from his cheek. Then he smiles and says, “Sleep well?”

“Hm.” Mark yawns, his face scrunching up. “We should probably go home now. Traffic will be insane if we don’t make it into the city by mid-morning.”

He doesn’t start walking even after he gets up, though. Instead, he shuffles like he’s waiting for something, so Taehyung moves, their shoulders brushing together when he moves to stand next to him until they’re both staring at the sea. It’s peaceful to be like this, Taehyung thinks, easy to fall into the tranquility and be comfortable. He sighs through his nose, a little light-hearted, and he remembers what the two of them talked about a few days ago.

_I wish you could see yourself the way I see you._

“Did you mean it?” He finds himself asking.

Mark shuffles. “Mean what?”

“You said I intrigue you in a way no one ever has.” He repeats the exact words. Mark cracks a grin at that. “Did you mean it?”

“Yeah.” Mark has a cluster of barely visible freckles on the tip of his nose. Taehyung files it back in his head and stifles a smile. “I meant it. Still do. I don’t know what’s it about you that makes me want to be with you, but something in me wants you, and it wants you really badly, and, you know, I wouldn’t oppose it. If you wanted to be with me, that is.”

Mark’s hands look like they could hold on for a long time, like they could hold you from the edge of a cliff and not let you fall, like they could promise an eternity. They look like anchors, like a support. His grip is warm and familiar and comforting, and the ache in Taehyung’s chest whenever he smiles isn’t painful at all. It feels like a new beginning.

“You know what?” He says. “Maybe we’re not that different after all. We both want the same things, then.”

They don’t kiss under the bright blue sky that day. Instead, Mark leans in, hooks an arm around his waist, and rests his forehead on Taehyung’s shoulder, and Taehyung inhales the scent of salt and the sea from the skin of Mark’s neck, and he feels like flying, like he’s invincible.

It’s strange because he’s only ever drowned.

……..

The first time they kiss is not in the beach.

Instead, it’s in the kitchen, with the rain thrumming on the roofs and the taste of chocolates on their tongues.

Taehyung’s not really sure how he ended up like this, on the counter while Mark leans in to expertly brush the hair out of his eyes and smile at him. He’s close enough for Taehyung to count the freckles on his nose, one by one, close enough for Taehyung to see that his lips are mostly colorless and not pink, close enough for Taehyung to drown in his scent and his presence and his beauty. Mark holds him close, one hand on his wrist while the other remains on his cheek, and he looks nice like this, eyelashes fluttering prettily and uncertain of his own actions.

He’s fascinated.

“Hi,” Taehyung says.

“Hey.” Mark responds. “Can I kiss you?”

He asks like Taehyung could ever deny him. It should be scary, how this human is stripping off his barriers and his walls and his facades, but it isn’t, because it’s not just anyone. It’s Mark. (Mark who had seen Taehyung’s pain even though he tried to hide it, Mark who had fallen for Taehyung without knowing what he’d been through, Mark who’s fallen for Taehyung’s scars and scrapes and his flaws, Mark who’s smiled at him like he holds the universe in his palms,) and he’s not afraid of that.

“Yeah.” He breathes. “Yeah, you can.”

And then Mark kisses him, slowly and shyly, like a boy kissing his first love. It’s oddly reminiscent of falling when Mark’s lips smile against his own, and their noses bump together. It’s lazy and warm and everything he could have asked for. Mark kisses him chastely, lips on lips and hands on his wrists, and Taehyung’s hands slide up to his neck. He tastes like chocolate, like melted, white chocolate, and he smells like musk and the sea and amongst it all, Taehyung feels like he belongs.

The rain thrums heavily like his pulse when Mark breaks away to smile at him.

……..

(“Told you it’d work out.” Junior says, sounding too smug.

“Ew.” Jaebum says, failing to hide his smile. “Gross. Not on the counter. I eat there.”)

……..

They’re running the length of the horizon again.

Mark’s slightly ahead of him, but only because he’d started too early, and his sandy hair glows like a torch in the sunset. He turns around, laughs at Taehyung, and runs even faster. Taehyung tries to catch up to him until they’re both stopping to catch their breaths, clutching each other’s arms for support.

The ocean reflects in Mark’s eyes. Taehyung stares at him for a while, trying to wonder when he got so lucky, looks at his freckled nose and his pretty, shapely mouth and his wonderful eyes, and he’s breathless for a second.

“I want your knees weak when I tell you I love you,” Mark says, and the declaration startles Taehyung out of whatever he’d been thinking about.

“Sorry?” Taehyung asks, over the sound of the beach. He looks like his entire world tilted on it’s axis.

“You heard me.” Mark says. “I want your knees weak when I tell you I love you. I want your voice to break when you tell me you love me. I want you to look at me the way I look at you. Right here. I want this to be perfect.”

“It already is,” Taehyung says, and leans in to steal a kiss from his mouth. It turns out Mark doesn’t even have to say it, because he already knows. “I love you too, stupid human.”

“Yeah, your stupid human.” Mark smiles against his mouth. “Yours only.”

And oddly enough, Taehyung hears the love in his voice all the way over the sound of the ocean trying to swallow itself up.

**Author's Note:**

> *eminem's Without Me plays in the background*


End file.
